


Stakeout

by 13starbuck42



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Car Sex, Episode: s11e04 The Lost Art Of Forehead Sweat, F/M, Missing Scene, Season/Series 11, Sex in a Car, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 23:38:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13557999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13starbuck42/pseuds/13starbuck42
Summary: If Reggie had never shown up in the parking garage...





	Stakeout

“Well, this is romantic,” she said, not trying to hide her disappointment.  “Isn’t it?”  Mulder replied, and the corner of his mouth turned up into a half smile.  His eyes twinkled.  He was clearly enjoying himself.

They’d been there for hours, waiting for the mysterious provider of cherry-flavored Goop-O ABC to reappear.  Back in the office, Mulder had waggled his eyebrows at her, convinced her a stakeout would be fun, like a date.  Maybe the wave of red gelatin nostalgia was clouding her judgement, but she had suddenly longed for the “old days.”  For sunflower seeds, iced tea, and a baseball game on the radio.  For time alone with Mulder.  And so, she agreed.    

But the sunflower seeds were gone, the iced tea was tepid, and the signal in the basement of this parking garage was too weak to pick up a game.  The only sound in the last twenty minutes had been the steady _drip, drip, drip_ of leftover rainwater seeping through the cracked cement.   _This is not “like a date,”_ Scully thought to herself.

_Unless…_

Scully twisted around to look in the back seat of the SUV.  It was cavernous, empty save for the blanket and small bin of emergency supplies.  She shot Mulder a look.  “Oh, I uh… I folded the seats down to make room for some of my, um, gear.  For squatchin’.”  He shrugged, still smiling that half-smile, and Scully felt her desire turn liquid between her thighs.  She took off her dark jacket, folding it carefully, and set it on the dash in front of her.  

Instead of using the door, Scully climbed across the console, between the front seats, and lowered herself onto the flat expanse of dark leather and scotch-guarded fabric.  She kicked off her heels and reached back for the blanket, unfolded it, smoothed the creases and pushed the corners flat.  Mulder caught her reflection in the rearview mirror: she was on all fours, hair hiding her face, collared shirt billowed open with a clear view of her black lace bra.  “Scully…?”

“Don’t ask questions, Mulder.”  She met and held his gaze, willing him to understand her meaning.  Seconds passed, maybe minutes, and then suddenly he was next to her, shedding his jacket, rolling it up to use as a pillow.  She reached for his tie, loosening the knot and snaking the end sharply through his collar, tossing it into the front seat.  Scully sat back to unbutton her shirt, unclasp her bra, remove her trousers, shimmy out of her panties.  Mulder watched, wide-eyed, mouth gaping.  Later, she would accuse him of drooling.  

Naked, she straddled Mulder’s hips.  

“Shit, Scully…”  His voice was gravel, and she felt his cock twitch beneath her.  Her fingers worked the buttons of his shirt, pulled the ends from his waistband, pushed the sleeves down his arms.  And when she had freed him from his cotton restraints, she leaned forward, traced her tongue in the muscled grooves of his shoulders.  She pressed hot kisses into his neck, bit at him softly with her teeth.  His arms went around her, reached down to cup her ass, the weight of her in his hands.  “God, you feel good,” he mumbled into her hair, and she nipped her way across his chest, curling her fingers in the hairs there, brushing his nipples with her thumbs before making her way downward.  

He toed out of his shoes and she took care of the hardware on his pants: buckles, buttons, zipper.  Scully tugged them down, boxers too, and then lifted herself up as he leaned forward and dragged them down and off his legs, socks following suit.  

Scully ground her hips against the hard length of him, both of them slick with want.  The head of his cock hit her clit just where she needed it to, and she moaned into his shoulder, fingernails raking down his arms, and she increased the tempo.  He shifted slightly beneath her, poised at her entrance.  When she rolled her hips once more, he buried himself deep inside her and she cried out, gripping his shoulders, fingernails marking red half-moons in his skin.  He stilled, but moved his mouth to cover hers.  Deep kisses, long and knowing, filled with uncountable years, immeasurable time.  

Slowly he began to move, and she matched his pace.  Her arms went around his neck, fingers drawing lazy circles down his back to feel muscles move and pull.  His hands came up to cup her breasts, fingers grazing her nipples, thumbs and palms squeezing and kneading.  She kissed him all over, anywhere she could reach; he returned the favor, spending extra time swirling his tongue in all the right places.  

“Mulder,” she murmured.  “I need…”  She was desperate for release.  

“Tell me, baby.  Tell me what you need.”

“Touch me,” she whispered.  “I need you to touch me.”  

Mulder steadied her with a hand at her hip.  His other hand went between them, fingers splayed through her wiry curls, thumb curved into her wet folds to press against her clit.  She gasped at the contact, shuddered when his thumb began moving in slow, tight circles.  

“Like that, Scully?”

“Oh god, yes.  Like that.”  

The heat rose from her toes, tingling up her calves and into her thighs; he felt her begin to tighten around him and moaned low in his throat.  Mulder moved faster, hips and thumb together, and she began to lose herself.  Mulder kept moving, making up for lost time.  And then everything was electric, hot and wet, bright and full and timeless.  She couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t think of anything to say but her name, over and over and over.  

Scully fit herself under his chin, and he pulled the blanket up to cover them.  She sighed, contented, and Mulder tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear, kissed her forehead.  They stayed that way, curled together in the back of the car, until she could breathe and he could think.

“Well, this is romantic,” she said, softly.

“Isn’t it?” he whispered, and the corner of his mouth turned up into a half-smile.

**Author's Note:**

> For the tumblr prompt: car stakeout smut fic set right after the “well, this is romantic.” “isn’t it?” line. if reggie never showed up in the parking garage to talk to them, we all know what it would lead to. i need that in my life.


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